


Fortunes

by Wheel_of_Whimsy



Series: Forever Flintwood [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divination, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Second War with Voldemort, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29152503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheel_of_Whimsy/pseuds/Wheel_of_Whimsy
Summary: While waiting for their turn to leave the Order's meeting room during the war, some of the younger generation get to messing with some old school supplies.
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Forever Flintwood [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139930
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Fortunes

**Author's Note:**

> I have been stuck on this pair for months and while this one is shorter than my other two it did make me laugh. I've had the outline for it in my drive for so long I finally got tired of looking at past me's ;))) and decided to write it. Please tell me what you think!

Although they came from a wizarding family, and although that family was particularly gifted at using expansion charms in living spaces, the Weasley twins did  _ not _ have a large basement. 

Marcus stood a bit straighter to allow a short woman with turquoise hair to pass by. She turned to him, with a face remarkably similar to a beaver, and winked. The werewolf nodded his thanks and they both scarpered up the stairs. They were the last ‘adults’ to leave the premises. ‘Adults’ meaning those who did not graduate just two years ago or more recently. Because of the heavy monitoring on the Weasley family as a whole most people seemed to agree that it would be wise to have a meeting during the busy business hours in the late afternoon, but those same people completely overlooked the fact that they were  _ having meetings in one of the most closely watched family’s basement! _

The former Slytherin kept his thoughts to himself and subtly tried to shake Adrian Pucey awake. The younger boy, valiantly pretending not to be asleep, stood bolt upright with a muttered, “I’m awake!” 

Marcus rolled his eyes and looked around. Angelina Johnson took a moment by the foot of the stairs to look in the mirror and straighten her curls to frame her face. “Lovely dear, absolutely lovely!” the mirror said and the Gryffindor smiled first at it and then the two boys before going upstairs, no doubt to fraternize with one of the terrors. Alicia Spinnet followed close behind, dragging her feet along the floorboards, before Wood called out, 

“Oi!” They both stopped halfway up and Marcus lazily looked in the keeper’s direction as well. He and the spectacled Weasley were crouched by a small table in the center of the room. Weasley looked put-upon, as usual, and Oliver held a small bucket of trinkets.

“Any of this your lot’s?” Wood said and shook the bucket. A few tarot cards and dried up tea leaves scattered over the table. Neither girl moved except to look at each other for a moment.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Percy said, “first of all, you can’t leave so soon after the Lupins. Secondly, my brothers won’t be done with work for at least another two hours.” 

Angelina groaned and tumbled back down the stairs into Marcus’s shoulder. Her hair flopped back down and the mirror tutted disapprovingly even as the tall boy pushed her back up. Alicia, even less gracefully, slumped with another groan and descended the stairs to the lone armchair in the corner. 

“S’not mine,” Alicia mumbled and threw her legs over the arm. Her head and neck draped over the opposite one with her hair trailing the ground. Angelina patted Marcus’s arm in thanks and went back to the tatty loveseat behind Percy, forlornly placing her elbows on her knees and chin in the palms of her hands. She shook her head negatively when the boys looked at her.

Oliver cast another look over at Flint and Pucey, “Stop skulking in the corner, then,” he rumbled, “I know it’s not either of your rubbish and there’s nothing else to do so I’m rummaging.” He proceeded to dump the bucket out on the table. With a clatter, a half dozen dice, the rest of the tarot cards, a small silk bag full of tea leaves, and an astrolabe fell out. Percy snatched up the tarot deck and began fiddling with them, shuffling and reshuffling with a bored look on his face. Oliver spent a few moments carefully separating the other junk away from the dice.

“Fancy a game of craps, then, gentlemen?” Pucey said, rubbing his eyes. The four purebloods looked at him with confusion and Alicia Spinnet rolled her eyes to the floor from her upside down position. 

“What’s that?” Wood said and gathered all the dice up in his large hands. He shook his clasped fists together and the dice clinked in that satisfying way. With a flourish the Scotsman let them fall to the tabletop.

“All sixes, excellent!” He exclaimed with a clap.

Angelina leaned forward to look and opened her mouth at the same time as Percy, but Marcus beat them both to it, “You’re doing it wrong.” 

Four heads rotated up to look Marcus in the face and Oliver rebutted with a solid, “Wot?” 

With a roll of his eyes, and a snicker from Adrian, Flint sat down and bent his lanky langs underneath the table to lay sideways. He stretched out his hands and gathered up the dice with long, thin fingers while Wood kept watch. 

“What d’you mean I did it wrong? I was just muckin’ about,” Wood said with a peevish look on his face. Percy jumped in.

“This is obviously a divination set,” He said with characteristic pomp, “probably from--” 

“Sixth year curriculum, yes, we know,” Pucey jumped in and tossed himself on the loveseat with Angelina. She leaned her head back and groaned at the same time as Alicia.

“Please don’t get him started,” Johnson begged, “We just had one meeting, don’t make us sit through another.” Weasley sniffed and shook his head while fixing his glasses, then mimed zipping his mouth shut and began gathering up the scraps of tea leaves on the tabletop.

“Astra-gyromancy,” Marcus spoke over them, “Requires more  _ finesse _ than simply tossing them about.” The young lord held each die, one by one, in front of his face and studied them with a sharp eye while trying not to look at Oliver’s perturbed and slightly flushed face just beyond his focused vision. The blurry outline of Wood crossed its arms and rested them on the table to hunch over.

“And what would a pillock like you even know about divination, anyway?” He muttered into the woodgrain. Marcus ignored him but Pucey laughed a little.

“It’s only his mother’s single greatest hobby since she’s been retired,” Nevermind Marcus’s mother ‘retired’ almost a decade ago after a decorated career as first a Chaser for the Bordeaux Blitzens, France’s national team, and later as a coach for the Holyhead Harpies. She spent most of her days aging gracefully, raising snidgets, and conniving ways to set her son up with a marriage partner when she wasn’t practicing the lingering minor gift of divination everyone in the Le Francois family enjoyed--Marcus included. 

“All sixes is a terrible fortune,” Flint said and set aside three of the dice, “A shadow and bad omen, a prophecy and danger.” Wood gulped and was suddenly pretty happy he had ‘done it wrong’, considering they were hiding in a basement after a secret meeting to overthrow a dark lord that had taken over the whole country while the hosts of the meeting were under careful observation and an overarching sense of doom permeated each gathering. 

Wood spent a few seconds admiring the slenderness of Marcus’s pale hands while Flint inspected the dice. One was a shimmery lilac-purple with flowery white indents on the sides instead of dots, the second a solid and bright red with perfunctory black dots, and the final a deep blue-green with various symbols on each side. The Slytherin wrinkled his nose but took them in his palms, pushed the two halves of his hands together, and shut his eyes for a moment. 

Oliver, who had never taken divination and instead devoted third, fourth, and fifth year to Care and Runes (mostly to learn how brooms worked), gave it a few seconds and opened his mouth to complain before a small whoosh of air, like somebody waving a handkerchief, wafted over the table and ruffled some of the remaining leaves. Marcus quickly tossed the dice on the table and they all settled almost immediately with a final sounding ‘click’ at the same time. 

“You’ve gotta push some of yourself into the dice, right?” Marcus said shortly and ignored Pucey’s suddenly very interested stare. Unbeknownst to the Gryffindors, Flint very rarely did divination and often claimed he only performed when he was ‘called’ to do so. 

Oliver studied the dice for a moment and then looked back up, along with Percy, “So who did you roll these for?” Marcus threw him a shrewd look and Percy bopped him on the shoulder.

“You can only roll them for yourself, Oliver, honestly,” the former prefect said. But he gestured for Marcus to go on with his hand, “but yes, what does your fortune say?”

The tall boy leaned down over the table and studied each die, picking up one at a time. The purple bore four little flower marks, “This one is luck. Pretty straightforward, really.” The others nodded. 

“This one,” Marcus said and picked up the red one and frowned at it before rolling his eyes. He was careful to avoid looking in any one general direction for too long, “Threes are for friendship, companionship… or new partners,” he muttered the last part and both the girls aww’d. Alicia’s was aimed at the floor and a little garbled by her position upside down.

The final die, the blue one with the symbols, stared up from his palm. Marcus avoided revealing it for a few seconds and stewed in silence while everyone else waited with baited breath.

“Well, what’s it mean?” Adrian asked finally, impatient. Marcus reached out and tenderly picked it up between two fingers, showing the rolled side to them. Even without knowing the result, everyone blanched at the implications.

“The lightning bolt,” Marcus said heavily and laid the die on the table, “is for destruction.” 

The mood in the room soured immediately and everyone huddled into themselves. Alicia sat up and crossed her arms, folding her feet underneath her in the chair while the boys and Angelina avoided looking at each other.

“It can also mean thoughtlessness or haste,” Marcus added belatedly. Oliver hit him square in the face with a throw pillow.

“You are such a prat!” 


End file.
